The White Chief: A Legend of Northern Mexico Read online

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

  Garcia was dead. Vizcarra was not, though, when taken up from where hehad fallen, he looked like one who had not long to live, and behavedlike one who was afraid to die. His face was covered with blood, andhis cheek showed the scar of a shot. He was alive however,--moaning andmumbling. Fine talking was out of the question, for several of histeeth had been carried away by the bullet.

  His wound was a mere face wound. There was not the slightest danger;but the "medico" of the place, a young practitioner, was notsufficiently master of his art to give him that assurance, and for somehours Vizcarra remained in anything but blissful ignorance of his fate.

  The garrison doctor had died but a short time before, and his place wasnot yet supplied.

  A scene of excitement for the rest of that day was the Presidio--notless so the town. The whole settlement was roused by the astoundingnews, which spread like a prairie fire throughout the length and breadthof the valley.

  It travelled in two different shapes. One was, that the settlement wassurrounded by "los barbaros," headed by Carlos the cibolero; that theymust be in great numbers, since they had made an open attack upon themilitary stronghold itself; but that they had been beaten off by thevaliant soldiers after a desperate conflict, in which many were killedon both sides; that the officers were all killed, including theComandante; and that another attack might be looked for that night,which would most likely be directed against the town! This was thefirst shape of the "novedades."

  Another rumour had it that the "Indios mansos" had revolted; that theywere headed by Carlos the cibolero; that they had made an unsuccessfulattempt upon the Presidio, in which, as before, the valiant soldiers hadrepulsed them with great loss on both sides, including the Comandanteand his officers: that this was but the first outbreak of a greatconspiracy, which extended to all the Tagnos of the settlement, and thatno doubt the attack would be renewed that night!

  To those who reflected, both forms of the rumour were incomprehensible.Why should "Indios bravos" attack the Presidio before proceeding againstthe more defenceless town as well as the several rich haciendas? Andhow could Carlos the cibolero be their leader? Why should he of allmen,--he who had just suffered at the hands of the savages? It waswell-known through the settlement that it was the cibolero's sister whohad been carried off. The idea of an Indian incursion, with him at thehead of it, seemed too improbable.

  Then, again, as to the conspiracy and revolt. Why the tame Indians wereseen labouring quietly in the fields, and those belonging to the missionwere working at their usual occupations! News, too, had come down fromthe mines--no symptoms of conspiracy had been observed there! A revoltof the Tagnos, with the cibolero at their head, would, of the tworumours, have been the more likely to be true; for it was well-known toall that these were far from content with their lot--but at presentthere was no appearance of such a thing around. There were they all attheir ordinary employments. Who, then, were the revolters? Bothrumours, therefore, were highly improbable.

  Half the town-people were soon gathered around the Presidio, and afterstories of all shapes had been carried back and forward, the definitefacts at length became known.

  These, however, were as mysterious and puzzling as the rumours. Forwhat reason could the cibolero have attacked the officers of thegarrison? Who were the Indians that accompanied him? Were they"bravos" or "mansos"?--savages or rebels?

  The most remarkable thing was, that the soldiers themselves who hadtaken part in the imaginary "fight" could not answer these questions.Some said this, and some that. Many had heard the conversation betweenCarlos and the officers; but that portion of the affair, thoughperfectly natural in itself when taken in connexion with aftercircumstances, only rendered the whole more complicated and mysterious!The soldiers could give no explanation; and the people returned home, tocanvass and discuss the affair among themselves. Various versions werein vogue. Some believed that the cibolero had come with the _bona fide_desire to obtain help against the Indians--that those who accompaniedhim were only a few Tagnos whom he had collected to aid in the pursuit--and that the Comandante, having first promised to aid him, hadafterwards refused, and that this had led to the strange conduct of thecibolero!

  There was another hypothesis that gained more credit than this. It wasthat Captain Roblado was the man whom the cibolero had desired to make avictim; that he was guided against him by motives of jealousy; for theconduct of Carlos on the day of the fiesta was well-known, and had beenmuch ridiculed--that, in failing to reach Roblado, he had quarrelledwith the Comandante, and so forth.

  Improbable as was this conjecture, it had many supporters, in theabsence of the true motive for the conduct of the cibolero. There werebut four men within the Presidio to whom this was known, and only threeoutside of it. By the general public it was not even suspected.

  In one thing all agreed--in condemning Carlos the cibolero. The garottawas too good for him; and when taken, they could all promise him amplepunishment. The very ingratitude of the act was magnified. It was butthe day before that these same officers had gone forth with theirvaliant soldiers to do him a service! The man must have been mad! Hismother had no doubt bewitched him.

  To have killed Lieutenant Garcia!--he who was such a favourite!_Carrambo_!

  This was true. Garcia was liked by the people of the settlement--perhaps not so much from the possession of any peculiar virtues, but incontrast with his superiors. He was an affable, harmless sort ofperson, and had won general esteem.

  That night the cibolero had not one friend in San Ildefonso. Nay, wespeak wrongly. He had _one_. There was one heart beating for him asfondly as ever--Catalina's--but she, too, was ignorant of the motiveswhich had led to his mysterious conduct.

  Whatever these motives were, she knew they could not be otherwise thanjust. What to her were the calumnies--the gibes--that were heaped uponhim? What to her if he had taken the life of a fellow-creature? He hadnot done so without good cause--without some fearful provocation. Shebelieved that in her soul. She knew his noble nature too well to thinkotherwise. He was the lord of her heart, and could do no wrong!

  Sorrowful, heart-breaking news was it to her. It boded longseparation--perhaps for ever! He dared no more visit the town--not eventhe settlement! He would be driven to the wild plains--hunted like thewolf or the savage bison--perhaps taken and slain! Bitter were herreflections. When should she see him again? Maybe, never!